December 4, 2005:
Dried moisture, like a landscape of salt pits.
Topographical map of the soul, raised to awkward visibility.
Where the tears on your glasses speak eloquently to past, present, future: empty time unfolding in all directions.
Dried moisture, like a landscape of salt pits.
Topographical map of the soul, raised to awkward visibility.
Where the tears on your glasses speak eloquently to past, present, future: empty time unfolding in all directions.